Delighted to have been invited to give an online talk about Escaping Hitler and the life of Joe Stirling. This prestigious organisation has a full programme of Zoom talks, at the cost of £10 for the link. If you would like to join me on 11th January take a look at this link to reserve your place. And just a thought – next year will mark the 100th anniversary of the birth of Günter Stern. Plans are afoot to mark the date of 18th October 1924.
On the night of 8th/9th November this year it was the 85th anniversary of Kristallnacht. I well remember Joe Stirling sharing his very clear memories of that night in his home village of Nickenich when three men in Nazi uniforms knocked down the family’s front door at 4am. These were Joe’s very words as he told me his story in December 2011, our very first interview for his biography in his comfortable Norwich home.
“I remember our door being smashed down on the night of 8-9 November, 1938. My father got up and saw these brown shirts, not people from our village, they might have been from Andernaach or other nearby town. My father said ‘What are you doing?’ They said, ‘Get dressed, you are arrested’. My father said ‘Arrested? What have I done wrong?’ One of them hit him across the face and said, ‘You are a Jew. That’s enough’. While he was being arrested they toured through our living area and opened all the drawers, through everything out, china and glass on the floor, and trampled on it incase anything had survived. Just wrecked the place, you know. My mother also got up, and I got up and I remember she was holding me, I was nearly fourteen then. There was no suggestion of arresting me, I was not old enough. My father was taken away, there was no clue of where, and there was no way of finding out, or whether he would be back, whether he was charged, not that they need to charge people to hold them. Everyone already knew about the concentration camps. This was one of the first things Hitler did when he came to power. Anyone who openly criticised him or the Nazi party, they didn’t go to court or anything, they were political prisoners and locked up in the camps – these were not Jews, no Jewish people were making speeches against the Nazis. Lots of people in Germany were arrested, some never seen again. They probably died of starvation or whatever. And Dachau, which was the big camp in Bavaria where my father was taken. We learnt about that when he came out.”
I recall being stunned at this elderly man’s ability to speak so cooly about an event in his life when he was just 14 years old, that must have been transformational. Just two days ago, a German man whom I met in Koblenz in 2013, sent me this photograph from a guided tour of the Stolpersteine in Koblenz, the brass plaques set into the pavement outside the last known address of victims of the Nazi Regime. They came across those dedicated to Joe’s parents, Ida and Alfred Stern, who both perished in Sobibor in the summer of 1942.
They will always be remembered.
If Joe Stirling had not passed away in 2020, he would have been celebrating his 98th birthday today. I remember so many birthdays – visiting his home in Norwich to find stacks of brightly coloured greetings cards from friends around the world, and wrapped parcels from his many loving family members. He was known to be a chocoholic so there were always boxes of these sitting on the coffee table. I miss him every day and always enjoy giving “his talk” to groups around Norfolk, sharing tales of his childhood in Nazi Germany, his freedom walk through Europe and his achievements in later life, so many recorded in my biography Escaping Hitler (Pen and Sword Books 2016). Joe was a very special man and I was fortunate to find him when I did. I owe my ongoing writing and public speaking careers to his generosity, amazing memory and zest for life. Thank you Joe and Happy Birthday….
Today, 18th October 2021, I visited the headstone of Joe and his wife Jean, set in the peaceful beauty of Earlham Cemetery in Norwich. It was my first visit and I had no idea how idyllic it would look with ancient trees, flowers, momuments and the odd squirrel. Joe died in February 2020, just before the pandemic lock-down, and his funeral was packed with family and friends, each wishing to pay their respects and celebrate the long and fruitful life of this wonderful man.
I was fascinated to see that Joe is next to Howard Cartwright, born in the same year as Joe and a serving soldier in WW2 with the Argyll and Southern Highlanders. I would like to think that maybe Joe and Howard trained together in Glasgow, perhaps Howard being part of the group of young soldiers in the barracks who ‘dubbed’ Günter as Joe, the name that stuck for the rest of his life. Two old friends brought together in death. Or is that too fanciful?
I wished Joe a happy birthday and left a spray of flowers. It has been a special day.
Another sad death. This is so close to my heart. Shirley Williams was generous and kind when she agreed to write the foreword for Escaping Hitler back in 2015. And today the world learns of her death aged 90. I was fortunate to meet her on a number of occasions, and once she even stayed the night in our guest bedroom after we’d hosted a Liberal Democrat gathering to celebrate her autobiography. She and Joe went way back and my proudest moment was when I brought the two of them together, after an absence of over 60 years, at a Lib Dem event during a General Election campaign. Shirley was a very special lady, may she rest in peace.
Here is the foreword from the book:
‘Phyllida Scrivens’ enchanting book Escaping Hitler, rang so many bells for me. Joe Stirling’s life, from his childhood escape to Britain to life as a refugee in a strange country with a kindly family he had never met before; his education in unfamiliar schools and his ability to adapt to working as a professional in the politics of his adopted country; all have echoes with my own experience. But the sensitivity of Mrs Scrivens’ account, her remarkable capacity to convey the significance of each small detail, make this biography of an outstanding British local politician, volunteer and businessman special. The early extracts from Joe Stirling’s interviews with his biographer Phyllida Scrivens, with which every chapter starts, convey a chilling reminder of Germany’s descent over four years from a reasonably tolerant respectable decentralised society into the intense nationalism, brutality and fascism of the Third Reich.
The young Jewish boy, Günter Stern, was well treated by his teachers, his parents inviting his school friends to play with him. A few years later, the teenage Günter, isolated and excluded, set out on his own to walk from Koblenz to England, with little money and only a creased official letter from the English Jewish Committee telling him when the next Kindertransport would leave Cologne, in July 1939. It was his last chance.
My brother John and I were evacuated to the US to live in Minnesota for three years with a family we had never met. We were not fleeing the Luftwaffe’s Blitz in British cities, but primarily the likely prospect of a Nazi invasion of Britain. My parents, though not Jewish, were both on the Gestapo Black List of people to be killed immediately in the event of a successful invasion. They felt this was a risk they should take, but could not impose on their children.
The story of Joe Stirling’s successful integration into British life says a great deal for his determination, his resilience and his courage; the openness of his mind. He worked as a Labour party official and organiser after his service in the British Army, in one of the most rural regions of England, East Anglia, at the grass roots, often in partnership with the Agricultural Workers Union, battling to end tied cottages and to challenge traditional, sometimes near feudal employment practices. He was one of my agents in the 1953 Harwich Parliamentary by-election.
A twenty-three year old candidate, I recall the excitement of convening with Joe two or three meetings a night, hurtling down muddy lanes in the dark, looking for small halls, each with its audience of a dozen or so. Joe mobilised a handful of supporters from a score of villages to come. The boy from the Rhineland had become a Norfolk man.
Joe Stirling has made this his own country and the country has properly honoured him. Secretary and Agent for Norwich Labour Party, councillor and Sheriff of Norwich.
Joe Stirling has contributed to our public life for over sixty years.’
Shirley Williams, 2015
On the sad occasion of the death of The Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Philip, I would love to share this story about his visit to Norwich in July 1975 as it appears in my first book Escaping Hitler (published by Pen and Sword Books in 2016).
The crowds lined the streets of Norwich early on the morning of Tuesday,
1 July. Joe had recovered from the worst of the jet lag and looked forward to
wearing the Sheriff’s chain again, this time in the presence of Prince Philip,
Duke of Edinburgh. The Duke was visiting Norwich to inspect an awardwinning
conservation scheme dubbed ‘Heritage-Over-The-Wensum’. At
Thorpe Road Railway Station, Joyce in her Mayoral chain was part of the
welcome committee, on this occasion obliged to defer to the Lord Lieutenant
of Norfolk, Sir Edmund Bacon as first citizen of the City. This pushed the
Sheriff into third place in the hierarchy that day. The Duke’s first engagement
was to climb aboard a steam launch, moored at the Norwich Yacht Station, aptly
named The Princess Margaret. As the Royal party reached Fishergate, a specially
commissioned fanfare sounded from musicians on Fye Bridge. Cheering
schoolchildren, factory and office workers vied for a glimpse of the special visitor.
The landlord of the Woolpack pub in Muspole Street welcomed the Duke
to his recently redecorated establishment, serving him with a tomato juice,
presumably without the vodka. As he passed along St George’s Street, students
from Norwich Art School showered the party with ticker tape, worrying the
Special Branch bodyguards. As the Duke prepared to enter Blackfriars for a
sherry and buffet lunch, it was Joe and Jean’s turn to shake his hand. Once the
feasting was over, the Duke presented the city with the conservation award. He
had spent the previous night aboard the Royal Train in sidings outside Norwich
Station. During his speech he was less than complimentary about the view of
the city’s industrial area, visible from his carriage. A number of assembled
dignitaries and guests squirmed a little at what appeared to be unwelcome
criticism. At precisely two o’clock the Duke climbed into the pilot’s seat of a
helicopter of The Queen’s Flight and flew to King’s Lynn in the north of the
county for further engagements. Joe had fulfilled his second official task as
Sheriff.
Today, 27th January 2021, is Holocaust Memorial Day. How well I remember the many occasions when my husband and I would enter Peter Mancroft Church in Norwich, to see rows of people, many dressed in black, waiting for the special annual service to begin. Always in the front rows, amongst the dignitaries, was Joe Stirling, Norwich’s very own Kindertransport boy. Knowing Joe’s story as well as I did, I could imagine his parents, their life in the rural Rhineland village of Nickenich, their horrific experience of Kristalnacht, and the journey they took to their deaths in Sobibor Death Camp. It was always a sobering morning. But this year, of course, there will be service. Joe died last February but there will be no public recognition of his absence at the service. So today I will silently think about Joe and his parents, Alfred and Ida, just two of so many who were murdered by the Nazis.
Today the news went public – an autobiographical piece I wrote recently for the Jarrold 250 Short Story Competition was awarded with a special commendation and it is now available to read at their website, along with the four winning stories, all inspired by everyone’s … Continue reading Story of Escaping Hitler book launch commended in Jarrold short story competition
Today, 18th October was Joe Stirling’s birthday. For eleven years I made sure to see him, taking a little gift, sharing a slice of cake. As you are aware, Joe was very special to me, not just as the subject of my first book, but as my friend and confidant. Joe died in February this year and I miss him. This photo is from his birthday in 2018, before his health deteriorated.
Happy Birthday Joe!
Last evening, 13th October 2020, I was delighted to share my presentation via Zoom with the good ladies of Youlgrave Women’s Institute. Having found myself on the recommended list of Zoom speakers for the Derbyshire Federation, I was approached just last week to see if I was available to speak at short notice. I was thrilled to accept, not only because it was an opportunity to extend the reach of Joe’s remarkable story, but particularly as Victor and I spent a wonderful week’s holiday, just two summers ago, staying in Tweedledee Cottage, in the centre of that delightful village, enjoying walks in the stunning countryside, eating at superb local pubs, visiting Bakewell, Dovedale, Heights of Abraham, Chatsworth and the Plague Village Eyam, to name but a few. We vowed to return sometime to Youlgrave, but never in a million years did I think it would be via an online conference platform in the middle of a global pandemic! Thanks again to last evening’s audience – I really enjoyed the experience. Here are some photos of the village from our time there.
Escaping Hitler: A Jewish Boy's Quest for Freedom and his Future 